


Life would go on, believe me

by whovianhiddlestoner



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Blood, Comfort/Angst, Davekat Week, Davekat Week 2016, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Meteorstuck, Past Child Abuse, Sadstuck, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 09:38:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8157551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whovianhiddlestoner/pseuds/whovianhiddlestoner
Summary: Your name is Karkat Vantas. You sure as hell don't fucking want to be Karkat Vantas.His name is Dave Strider. You think he doesn't wants to be Dave Strider right now.Two guys, sitting alone in a corridor on a meteor hurtling in space and being sad together.Davekat week: Day 4 - Sadstuck





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [auraphantom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/auraphantom/gifts).



> Good ol' meteorstuck for the soul and a POV change from my previous day fics to keep me on my toes.  
> For some reason I searched for the most sad sounding Homestuck musics to listen to while I wrote this. Gotta love Candles and Clockwork,  
> 3 in the morning and various others.
> 
> Title is from the the song God Only Knows from The Beach Boys 'cos I'm a sap.

Your name is Karkat Vantas. You sure as hell don't fucking want to be Karkat Vantas.

You were sitting, perched up by a wall but practically lying on the floor as you slipped down, in some random corridor. You've let yourself fall in that sitting position and you haven't bothered to move ever since. Time just sort of seized to exist. You could've been sitting there alone for hours or maybe a day or two. You sure as death didn't care.

Your body was limp, unmoving, muscleless, boneless, useless, fucking useless and no good like a corpse that you wish you were. Both your thinkpan and bloodpusher felt the same numb way. Fuzzy with static, no coherent thought, emotions dulled down to nonexistence, dead.

Your stomach groaned with want of food. You ignored it. The thought of nutrition made you sick and you felt like a selfish bastard for just needing food for a basic survival function. You won't move yourself for that. Starving for a while or forever would be a good punishment.

You didn't register the sound of footsteps coming your way, your senses muted with everything else with you as you silently wallow in your misery.

"Dude, you ok? We haven't seen you anywhere for at least a day."

You didn't get startled by the words being addressed to you. You're not entirely sure if you fully understood what was being said. You moved your head along the wall a small bit and raised your blank eyes. Dave's deep red clothing stared back at you.

He took your unusual silence as an invitation to sit beside you. Whatever. You can continue being numb with him next to you.

Dave stared at you behind his shades for the longest time with an expression of... what is that face? Sadness? Worry? Understanding?

"Hey..." He called you softly, like when he's monologuing under his breath. "Kar. You can talk to me about it if you want."

You didn't want to. You really didn't want to talk about anything to anyone. But the way Dave was looking at you, the air of comfort and understanding and a totally judgement free zone around him, it told you that maybe you _need_ to talk about it.

You swallowed, hard and barely moisturizing your bone dry throat and took in a sharp breath.

"I want to die." Your voice was scratchy and dry from disuse and it almost hurt as your own sound grated against your vocal chords. Good. It should hurt.

"I shouldn't be alive and frolicking on this bulgechaffing meteor when others are dead. Half of my friends: dead. Everyone's lusus, MY lusus: dead." Your swearing was only a filler of habit; you couldn't even bring yourself to get angry. You were way past anger with all other emotions.

"I've fucking failed them and I just feel wrong for even being alive like some filthy parasite."

You pause, because in this position you easily get out of breath, but resume talking before the human could say anything.

"But the fucked up thing is that dying is not an option because the Universe and all of Paradox Space has it in for my mutant blood ass. So I off myself now or tomorrow or next week, well laa-dee-fucking-daa, big nookwaisting deal, I have to 'live' the rest of times in a dream bubble to wallow in guilt with the other dead reminders of my guilt for eternity. There’s ONE motherfucking escape from life and even that's taken away from me."

You feel exhausted from your rant so you try to relax back into your limp state and let out a mixture between a huff and a sigh, the ultimate form of you saying 'I give up!'

Dave is silent by your side, probably struggling to think of something comforting or reassuring to say, but he fails short. Instead he leans into your side to show his sympathy. You roll your head onto his shoulder, hair and a small horn pressing against him, and a part of your mind whispers 'this should feel nice' but you can't feel it.

"You know," You start up again and you feel the blond shift a little to show you he's listening. "You know, I've fucking considered hurting myself. Just grabbing a rusty sickle and jab it in a leg or arm or cut off a finger. Something bad enough to cause me actual pain and make me cry and call out for my lusus but not bad enough to drop dead..."

"HAHAA!" you fake laughed a bit louder than you intended and it slightly startled Dave. "The hoofbeast shitting hilarious thing is that I'm too much of a fucking wriggler to make myself bleed my stupid candy red blood where you guys can see it. Look at Karkat, the retarded piece of shoe, who still worries about his fucking blood colour."

The atmosphere was heavy and your friend squirmed by your side.

"You..." Dave said and then faltered. He's hesitant to say what he wanted.

"You could hurt me if that helps."

...

......

The words woke you up a little with the slimy feeling of uncomfortableness and a tinge of alarm.

"You could like, I dunno, scratch my arm, bite me, graze my skin a couple of time with a sword... or just kick the fuck out of me 'till I don't even feel my organs." He just kept on rambling. It was so unnerving to listen to it; you had to scoot away from the human and properly look at him.

"Dave, I'm not going to hurt you."

"Maybe you should, man." He said. "I haven't been good you know, I might just deserve to be punished." He pulled up his arm closest to you, a clear offering, giving you full access to it.

"Hurt me. Let out your weird frustration of wanting to cause pain on me."

You didn't like this.

"Fuck no."

"Punish me." His voice held a strange aggression, his emotionless face pulled up as a mask. "You miss your lusus, right? That should be fucking normal, right? Then why is it that when Bro died I didn't feel shit? I wasn't sad; I didn't feel the slightest need to mourn him. Hell, I think I was even a little relieved. Relieved! What kind of fucked up shit is that?! I'm disrespecting him on so many levels it's too far from being ironic; I wouldn't even be surprised if he would jump out of nowhere and strife all that disrespect out of me."

You must've looked concerned because when the blond glanced at you from behind his shades he made a painful expression and deliberately looked away.

"Don't look at me like that, dude." he muttered and he seemed to be struggling with something. He already told so much that was on his plate, you couldn't imagine what else there could be.

"You don't know what looks like that from you make me feel. Fuck, I'm so confused!" Dave squirmed away from you, widening the gap between you and gripped a handful of his bright hair, knuckles whitening, clearly conflicted.

"I bet Bro would've beaten the living hell out of me for having such small feelings. It would be worse than the time when he broke my arm. No, this would be like 'not being able to get out of bed for two months' level of beating. I deserve being used as a living punch bag for thinking someone is nice more than the friend way, right?"

His voice went all wobbly by that last question; his still outstretched arm towards you shook as his whole body quivered. You thought he wasn't too far from crying.

You understood what kind of feelings he was talking about. You felt something like that too when you weren't busy with being a big pile of emotionless hoofbeast shit.

"Hurt me. Punish me."

"No."

"Do it!"

"No, Dave, I won't."

He held his arm up for you adamantly. Looking at it made you feel so uncomfortably off.

The mental image of you sinking your fangs into his soft flesh, claws gripping onto his arm and breaking skin, his warm blood gushing out of him and flowing into your mouth, colouring your hands, pooling onto the floor, making a mess of the two of you, his bright cherry red blood, your blood colour, YOUR blood painting everything in sight... it made you sick. Your stomach churned and you felt like throwing up on the spot.

"Do it..." Dave said and sobbed. Oh god, he was sniffling too and a tear dared to escape from under his shades.

"No Dave! Don't you ever ask me to fucking hurt you! HOW DARE you even ask me in the first place, you dumbfuck!" You hugged him. It felt right to hold him while his sobs grew in both frequency and volume.

"I would kill my sorry ass before hurting you and I've already told you why that's a fucking stupid and bad idea."

Dave maybe tried to laugh at that as a response but it came out as a cry than anything else.

Rubbing his back through his soft god tier cape seemed to help. Pecking his cheek and kissing his bright hair also seemed to make him feel slightly better. You continued to do both, with occasionally interrupting your rain of kisses by nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, until his crying subsided into soft hiccups.

"...Sorry." he mumbled and reached under his shades to wipe the embarrassing tears away.

"You're a stupid fuckstench."

"Sorry."

"It's ok." You say as affectionately as you can in your state.

The two of you were fucked up and something was wrong with you. But maybe together and with a bit of help you could make one okay.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments make my day


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